Chapter 311
Chapter 311
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 311
Chapter Title: Nangong Clan
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Naming a sword only happens in one of two situations. Either the owner is a child, or it's a famed blade worthy of a name.
And Nangong Myeong's sword was obviously the latter, no matter who laid eyes on it.
Unable to settle on a name right away, Nangong Myeong proudly placed the sword on the inn's table and sank into thought.
Sure enough, Hyeon-gong, who had come down for breakfast, took the bait immediately.
"What, it's finished?"
"Yeah."
"...Can I take a look?"
Nangong Myeong nodded arrogantly, his desire to show it off plain as day.
Just as Hyeon-gong picked up the sword, Seolhwa appeared in the inn, rubbing her eyes. She read the room and sat right down at the table. New spectacles were always a delight.
Hyeon-gong gripped the hilt and pulled. The blade slid free without a sound. Even the faint scrape against the sheath was barely perceptible.
After drawing the sword, Hyeon-gong's mouth fell open unwittingly.
He had never once felt regret over the sword Dang Mujin had forged for him. But now, a twinge of envy stirred.
'...He could make something like this?'
A thick greed bloomed in Hyeon-gong's heart.
Could he snatch this sword and run?—The thought bubbled up insistently. But he quickly dismissed it.
Nangong Myeong would be hard to shake, and if he played his cards right with Dang Mujin, he might get one like it someday.
On top of that, a faint aversion to stealing from a friend held him back.
'...Gotta train with my sword harder from now on.'
Besides, on second thought, Nangong Myeong was the perfect cautionary tale.
Wasn't he the one who'd stolen a sword from Dang Mujin, only for fate to twist against him ever since?
Nangong Myeong noticed the subtle greed in Hyeon-gong's eyes.
It was a perfectly natural reaction, but others' greed might lead to different outcomes than Hyeon-gong's.
When Nangong Myeong reached out, Hyeon-gong relinquished the sword with lingering reluctance. Nangong Myeong sheathed it at once.
As if he'd forged it himself, Nangong Myeong asked smugly.
"What do you think? Feel free to be honest."
"...A true famed blade. Too good for you, even."
Seolhwa reached out and fiddled with the sheath.
Of all the swords she'd seen, this was the most beautiful and exquisite. And the subtle chill emanating from it felt oddly suited to her.
After pondering far more deeply than usual, she crafted the most precise sentence she could.
"Lend me the sword for a day."
Nangong Myeong refused flatly.
"No."
Seolhwa pouted briefly, then tried twisting her face this way and that in what she imagined was a seductive ploy. But a beauty tactic she'd never considered before didn't magically succeed on the first try.
Hyeon-gong spoke up again.
"Why'd you leave the sword on the table? Showing off?"
"No. Just wondering what to name it."
A subtle plea for help.
But Hyeon-gong had no intention of racking his brain for a name fitting someone else's sword, so he replied somewhat indifferently.
"Ponder it and come up with something good. As long as it captures the blade's essence, anything works."
"...No ideas?"
"Hmm."
Nangong Myeong stared hard at Seolhwa. Even a child could have a flash of inspiration sometimes, and with her unfamiliarity with Central Plains speech, she might suggest something brilliant.
"What about you? Got any good ones?"
Focusing less on the sword itself and more on its purpose, Seolhwa offered her take.
"Rebel Blade?"
Nangong Myeong concluded he didn't need to name the sword right away.
*
Now including Nangong Hyeon, the group left Wuchang and headed for Tianzhu Mountain in Anhui Province.
Though the Nangong Clan wasn't far from Wuchang, it was still over ten days' walk for ordinary folk. Bandits often lurked along the way, making it perilous.
"I wonder if any bandits will pop out?"
Nangong Myeong itched for a chance to draw his sword.
He wanted to slice through the blades of those cheap bandits he'd bought off with a few silver taels back at the forge—with his new sword.
Hyeon-gong snorted.
"Bandits aren't gonna show. If I were one, I'd never target our group."
"Why not? They might not know our strength."
"Bandits aren't idiots. We've got several in martial robes with swords at our waists, and our luggage isn't worth much. No reason to attack."
All quite reasonable. Nangong Myeong couldn't hide his disappointment.
Some time into their journey, Dang Mujin's group spotted an elderly man trudging ahead. Even from afar, the scent of dried herbs wafted back—clearly a physician.
It was natural for him to quicken his pace at the sight of an armed group approaching from behind.
Spotting Dang Mujin's group, the unfamiliar physician startled and hurried along with short steps. Worried he might trip on a rock, Dang Mujin called out.
"Sir! No need to rush. If our paths align, travel with us."
"Oh, no, I'm fine!"
"I'm no shady character. I mentioned it because I'm a physician too."
"A physician?"
Dang Mujin half-unslung his pack, pulled out some herbs, and tossed them to the man ahead.
The herbs flew through the air via void-grasping technique, landing softly in the physician's hands.
Winter melon seeds, processed Eucommia bark stems, even velvet antler sliced thin and singed of fine hairs—items no non-physician would carry.
The unfamiliar physician dropped his guard at once. Few professions were as harmless as physicians. He didn't even seem overly suspicious despite Dang Mujin carrying a sword.
Dang Mujin's group slowed to a leisurely pace and caught up.
"Where are you headed?"
"To Wuhu. They say they're short on physicians there."
Wuhu lay even farther than Tianzhu Mountain—a full week from here, at least.
Physicians rarely traveled far. They might make house calls to nearby villages, but this man's baggage suggested he was relocating entirely.
Yang Physician interjected, asking the stranger.
"Was your old village not a good place to stay?"
"It wasn't ideal in many ways. The people are rough, and there are too many sick and injured for me to handle."
At the mention of many patients, Yang Physician and Yeom Physician perked up.
"Where was your old place?"
"It's called Suksong."
Suksong was a place four or five days' walk from Tianzhu Mountain for an ordinary person. A day or two backtrack from here would reach it.
The stranger traveled with the group briefly, chatting, then parted ways before half a day passed.
Yang Physician and Yeom Physician pondered for a bit afterward, then approached Dang Mujin that evening.
"Head of the Dang Clan."
"Yes? No need for formalities..."
When they first met, the two physicians had been quite deferential to Dang Mujin, but lately they'd grown more casual.
This was what Dang Mujin wanted—he wasn't comfortable with honorifics from men old enough to be his father.
Yang Physician looked sheepish.
"We feel awkward too... Anyway. You'll be coming back this way after the Nangong Clan business, right?"
"We'll pass nearby."
"Then, could my colleague and I head back to Suksong and wait?"
"Is there a reason?"
Yeom Physician took over.
"From what I see, things at the Nangong Clan might not resolve smoothly or amicably. Am I wrong?"
"You're right."
Dang Mujin nodded. Nangong Jincheon wouldn't step down from clan head easily. At least some arguing seemed inevitable.
"I doubt my colleague and I could help there. Staying amid such skilled warriors doesn't sit well."
They'd inwardly dreaded following to the Nangong Clan. With conflict likely, all the more so.
Yeom Physician continued.
"While we're at it, I think settling in Suksong for a bit makes sense. With so many sick and their physician gone, the villagers must be in a real bind. When you finish at the Nangong Clan and head back to the Dang Clan, could you swing by Suksong and pick us up?"
No need for long thought. Dang Mujin wasn't in a position to order the two around silently, nor was there reason to refuse.
"Understood. Do that."
Dang Mujin agreed readily, and Yang Physician and Yeom Physician's faces lit up noticeably.
The next morning, the two physicians split from Dang Mujin's group and turned back for Suksong.
*
Two days after parting from the physicians, Dang Mujin's group arrived near Tianzhu Mountain.
Anhui Province. Especially around Tianzhu Mountain, Nangong Myeong had claimed no one would fail to recognize him—but not a single person did.
Hong Geolgae snorted.
"See? Everything Nangong Myeong said was bluffing."
"No. It's just been too long since I visited around Tianzhu Mountain."
Nangong Myeong's explanation held water.
He'd left Tianzhu Mountain some six or seven years ago. Plenty of time for faces to fade from memory.
Plus, his looks had changed quite a bit, so instant recognition would be odder still.
But since no one around did recognize him, Hong Geolgae responded with an even louder, grander snort.
The one drawing stares wasn't Nangong Myeong, but Seolhwa.
Sokmul tribesmen merchants visited Wuchang now and then, but had no reason to come to Tianzhu Mountain. Sokmul men weren't rare, but how many had seen a Sokmul woman?
Still, the gazes weren't particularly friendly. Most seemed to take her for a ghost or demon. Plenty startled and hid.
Seolhwa ended up sulking.
At last, the group reached the Nangong Clan gates.
"..."
Reactions varied.
It was Hyeon-gong's first time at the Nangong Clan. Hong Geolgae and Dang Mujin just felt it had been ages.
But Nangong Myeong's face showed complex emotions, and Nangong Hyeon couldn't hide his fear. Nearly a month had passed since the martial tournament—word of the results must have spread through the clan by now.
Nangong Hyeon dreaded how his clansmen would look at him.
Regardless, Nangong Myeong strode straight for the main gate without pause.
The two Nangong Clan warriors guarding it moved to block him, then hesitated and stepped back.
"Young master?"
"Yeah."
Unlike usual, Nangong Myeong spoke with haughty tone.
Dang Mujin and the others found it strangely awkward, but the guards and Nangong Hyeon seemed to see it as natural.
The Nangong Clan's main gate swung open.
The group entered the grounds.
Seolhwa's gleaming golden hair drew eyes once more. Then gazes shifted from her to Nangong Myeong.
Without a single exception, every person gaped at the group.
Yet none dared approach Nangong Myeong to speak.
Warriors proved their worth through achievements, and Nangong Myeong's reached realms none of them could touch.
The once-talented but immature youth was gone.
Nor was it just him. Hong Geolgae matched him, and Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong had clearly reached high realms. Even Seolhwa's skills weren't to be dismissed. The rumors of Nangong Myeong that had occasionally reached the clan held no exaggeration.
The proud Nangong Clan warriors shrank before Nangong Myeong and his group. Most didn't even notice Nangong Hyeon trailing behind.
Nangong Myeong slowly scanned his surroundings, then walked straight from the gate.
The largest building ahead drew near. The clan head's residence.
Soon its doors parted, revealing a familiar face. Nangong Jincheon.
Nangong Myeong stopped a mere seven or eight steps away.
To some, it was just a son long wandering afar returning home to greet his father.
Yet countless onlookers held their breath, watching. Something was about to happen.
Built on a raised platform above the surroundings, Nangong Jincheon naturally looked down at his son. Nangong Myeong looked up at him.
Nangong Myeong gave a light clasped-hands salute.
"Father. I'm home."
"Yes. It's been a long time. Welcome back."
To casual ears, everyday talk.
But to the Nangong clansmen, it felt off.
As they knew, Nangong Myeong never called Nangong Jincheon "Father" in public—always "Clan Head."
Even with all eyes on them, was this just private father-son business?
Nangong Jincheon shared the doubt.
"Why not 'Clan Head' today?"
"Why do you think?"
Rather than answer, Nangong Jincheon paused in thought.
Then a broad smile spread across his face—one the Nangong clansmen had never seen so radiant.
Nangong Jincheon spoke slowly once more.
"Yes. Truly, welcome home. My son."